Beckett Ihang up with Joey, pride washing over me. Wow. The PR firm can hardly handle interview requests. One week after the unveiling, and it’s like the whole country is waiting with bated breath for the official release date of SCORE Yours headphones. We knew we had a hit on our hands, but the media’s reaction is far more enthusiastic than we could’ve ever hoped for. As I scroll down the latest search results, I can’t help but shake my head, amazed and pleased. ‘SCORE YOURS HEADPHONES: THE NEWEST MUST-HAVE IN TERMS OF GADGETS’ ‘SCORE YOURS HEADPHONES: UNIQUE WITHOUT EVER COMPROMISING ON QUALITY’ ‘ARIANNE BUCHANAN, THE MASTERMIND BEHIND SCORE YOURS, HITS IT OUT OF THE PARK’ ‘SCORE ST EPS AHEAD OF SENNHEISER WITH THIS LATEST COUP’ I like the last headline. A lot. It’s not easy to st ep ahead of a giant. Since time was of the essence, Arianne sourced a handful of local artists, graffiti artists, and even a badass mechanic—who does insane custom paint and design jobs on vintage bikes. The six artists put their talent to work by coating basic white headphones with top quality paint jobs or standout-art on the prototypes for the unveiling. As a result, pre-orders are coming in massive numbers. That’s why my girl and Rhys have been at Tekknika Audio all week in endless production meetings while I hold the fort down here. Our public kiss also caused quite the frenzy. ‘ANOTHER BAD BOY OFF THE MARKET. BECKETT CHRISTENSEN IS TAKEN’ ‘ARIANNE BUCHANAN AND BECKETT CHRISTENSEN, LA’S NEWEST POWER COUPLE’ ‘ARIANNE BUCHANAN AND BECKETT CHRISTENSEN LOCK LIPS IN SWOON-WORTHY HOLLYWOOD-STYLE KISS’ ‘BREAKING NEWS: BECKETT CHRISTENSEN NO LONGER FLYING SOLO’
Like Cesar, a lot of guys in my circle have been giving me a hard time about my new relationship status. My parents and Holt adore Arianne. Knock, knock, knock. There’s a rap at the door. “Come in,” I say, lifting my gaze. The door opens, and a blonde pokes her head in. “Beckett Christensen, right?” The day after the unveiling, the building was under siege by a swarm of r eporters. It’s not like we weren’t expecting a certain level of excitement. We beefed up security accordingly. Things have somewhat died down, but I’m not surprised a sneaky r eporter would do just about anything to get a scoop on a story. Fuck. “How the hell did you get in here?” “Finally,” the blonde says, letting herself in. “I’ve been bouncing all over this floor to find you. Where is everybody?” It’s lunchtime, which explains why the executive floor is empty, but that’s none of her business. “You want an interview or information about SCORE Yours, contact our PR agency. As far as I’m concerned, you’re trespassing—” “I’m not a r eporter,” she says. I arch an eyebrow. “Who are you?” The blonde approaches, strutting with an exaggerated swing of the hips. She comes to stand right in front of my desk. Where have I seen her before? And why is she even wearing a trench coat when it’s hot outside? I knit my eyebrows together. “I asked you a question.” Her painted red lips break into a wide smile as her brown eyes—which seem too far apart—hold mine. “Surely she’s talked about me,” the woman says. “Who are you talking about?” “The bane of my existence, that’s who,” she says, as if I’m supposed to clue in. This woman looks a little too put together—and too coherent—to be high on drugs. Then again, I’m sure I looked like I had my shit together when I was in fact high as a kite back in the day. I reach for my phone. “Listen, lady, I’m about to call security—” “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” “You think you can boss me around? Whatever medication you’re on, ask your doctor for a new prescription—” “You’ll want to hear what I have to say, Beckett.” I narrow my gaze and study her. Something about her demeanor suggests I tread with caution. “I’m going to ask three simple questions. You answer them or I call the police.” “Hit me with your best shot,” she says in a flirtatious tone. “Who are you? Why are you here? And how the hell did you get into my building?” She slides a finger between her teeth and bites against it like you’d expect a shy little girl would do. She also does this thing with her shoulders. It looks like a rehash seduction tool from her lame bag of tricks. “I’m Nerdy Ari’s cousin,” she says. “Who?” “Arianne Buchanan,” she says. Then it hits me. “You’re Mariah Golightly?” “She has talked about me?” She beams gleefully. “Of course, she would. She’s a little obsessed with me because she wants to be me, but she can’t.”
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. “Let me guess. You’re here to order SCORE Yours headphones as wedding favors?” “You’re funny, but no,” she says. “I’m here because you and I can work out a deal that would be mutually beneficial for everyone concerned—” “I doubt we have anything to talk about,” I say. “You still haven’t answered my last question. How the hell did you get into my building?” She lets out a dramatic sigh. “I flew in from Silicon Valley late last week after your big announcement—and those stupid photos of you kissing Nerdy Ari—drowned my announcement.” Nerdy Ari? How fucking condescending. “I secured the top celebrity baker to create a show-stopping piece for my wedding, and thanks to you two, the press practically ignored me.” This woman thinks too highly of herself. “I’ve been hanging around your building for a couple days now, trying to figure out how to get your attention. It’s amazing what you can get when you give great head. I love giving blowjobs. Bonus, your new recruit has a pretty big dick. So, it was a win-win. I sucked him off twenty minutes ago, and in return, he snuck me in.” Someone’s about to get their ass fired— Wait a minute? Great head? Blowjobs? Isn’t Mariah engaged? I don’t know what this woman has up her sleeve, so I cut to the chase. “If you’re here to see my girlfriend, I suggest you leave your contact information with our rec eptionist on your way out—” “Girlfriend?” The look of disgust on Mariah’s face is quite telling. “Beckett Christensen can do so much better than Nerdy Ari—” “Don’t you dare call her that again.” I wave a warning finger at her. Mariah holds my icy gaze. “Touchy,” she says. “When it comes to Arianne, I am,” I say, exerting as much self-control as I can muster. “I don’t give a fuck what you think about my relationship. If you flew in to give me a piece of your mind, you might as well turn around—” “Let’s play it your way, Beckett.” She flashes me an artificially wide grin. “I have something that could destroy your so-called girlfriend’s pristine image and shatter her r eputation to pieces if it were to go... viral.” “Are you threatening my girlfriend?” She smirks. “I have your undivided attention now.” She takes a seat in one of the guest chairs without being invited, flashing me in the process. Her micro-length trench doesn’t cover much. Classy. She crosses a leg and dangles a foot clad in a thigh-high white leather boot, a demonic grin stretching her lips. “You’re not welcome here, neither are your empty threats—” “I have video clips of your so-called girlfriend fucking on camera,” she says. What the actual fuck? She opens her handbag, pulls out a phone and waves it. I’m too shocked to speak. “Nerdy Ari’s—Oopsie.” She flashes her too-white teeth. She’s grating on my last nerve. “I mean, Arianne’s face is clear, so there’s no mistaking it’s her.” Mariah fixes her eyes on me, and all I see is hatred.
She arches an expectant eyebrow. Everything in my body is buzzing with acute awareness. If she’s holding onto a bomb, I need to figure out how to disarm it before it explodes. Sex videos are no laughing matter when they’re scattered across the internet. I lean against my chair and bring my hands to my lap. In a slow, deliberate move, I slide my hand underneath my desk until I find three buttons. I press the middle one. With one simple touch, this conversation will be recorded. There are cameras and microphones in every corner of my office. When we started SCORE, Larkin suggested this set-up as an insurance policy. We didn’t argue. Rhys’s office and all the conference rooms are rigged in the same way. I do a mental countdown before speaking. “Mariah, those are some serious claims.” I play it cool even though my blood is boiling. “I’m holding Arianne’s life in the palm of my hand, Beckett.” She waves her phone again. Smile for the camera, bitch. “If I understand correctly, you’re saying you have a video of Arianne having sex on camera and the video is on your phone?” “Are you deaf?” She huffs. “I just said that.” “That’s a lot to process. I want to make sure I got it right.” “It’s not just one video. There are several, and I also have a bunch of explicit photos.” I have you where I want you, you scheming piece of scum. “How do I know you’re not bluffing, Mariah? After all, how would you get your hands on videos of your cousin having sex with men?” “Men? Please.” Mariah rolls her eyes. “Nerdy Ari—” “Watch your mouth.” She stares at me. I stare back. We glare at each other for a few short beats. “I’m still waiting for an answer,” I say. “Chance ke eps them on a cloud. He also has hard copies on a memory stick in a safe.” My blood freezes. “Are you saying Chance recorded videos of them having sex and he took pictures?” “Something like that.” “Yes or no?” “Yes.” “We’re talking about Chance Taboras, CEO of Glach Tech, and Arianne’s ex-boyfriend?” “No, we’re talking about Chance Taboras, CEO of Glach Tech, and my fiancé,” Mariah says. This isn’t about you, idiot. Thanks for incriminating the asshole, though. Mariah ke eps talking. “He placed several cameras in his bedroom to capture my stupid cousin in the most compromising situations.” “Was Arianne aware she was being filmed?” “No.” Mariah rolls her eyes. “That would defeat the purpose.” “I don’t follow.” She uncrosses her leg and sits up a little straighter. “I’m sure Arianne told you tons of false lies about me. False lies? That negates her accusation. She’s so dense, she doesn’t even get it. “It’s not my fault if I’m a lot sexier and I know what I’m doing in bed.” She’s still running her mouth. “Chance took a liking to me the moment he laid eyes on me. I mean, obviously.” She swe eps a hand down the length of her body. “Everything about me is far superior. My cousin doesn’t measure up.” I bite my tongue to avoid giving this idiot a verbal lynching. “Arianne never told me any lies about you, Mariah,” I say. I’ll believe her before I ever believe you.
“In any case.” She shrugs. “Arianne was jealous Chance fell head over heels for me at first sight. Chance wanted to be with me, but he wasn’t sure how to get rid of Arianne without any backlash—” “In case she got pissed off, he broke things off?” I play along. “That and also because Chance made a lot of promises...” “What kind of promises?” Spell it out, cunt. “Arianne hasn’t told you anything about her relationship with Chance or about me?” My God, this woman is so self-centered, it’s nauseating. “She played an instrumental part in turning Glach Tech into what it is today—” “You’re exaggerating.” Mariah rolls her eyes. “Arianne helped bring in a few more sales—” “As in millions upon millions of dollars of increased revenue—” “Chance told me he could’ve figured it out without her.” When? Next century? “What about the three successful crowdfunding campaigns she spearheaded?” “She was a coordinator. Chance was pulling the strings. My man is the brain behind Glach Tech. Not Arianne.” Moving right along. “Okay, so Chance had it covered.” “Yes, but my stupid cousin became too greedy for her own good,” Mariah says. “Arianne was pressing Chance’s hand to get a big payout?” “The company is Chance’s. She worked for him, therefore, all the ideas she came up with under his employment are his.” Talk about warped logic. “There was no reason for him to fork out millions of dollars to her.” “Is that what Chance promised Arianne?” Mariah flashes her fangs. “It was all part of the game. Chance was willing to tell my cousin anything she needed to hear as long as she made him a rich man.” “In other words, Chance dangled a golden carrot in front of Arianne’s nose so he could exploit her?” “She was so gullible. She believed they had a future together. He was playing her since day one. Once Chance got what he wanted, he didn’t need her anymore. And then, I came into the picture.” She flashes me a smug look. “A successful CEO needs a woman who reflects his success... which begs the question, why would you get trapped with Arianne? Is she pregnant?” No, that kind of shit is right up your alley, though. I ignore her. “So, Chance never planned on making good on his promises to Arianne?” I’m r epeating myself, but I want this to be airtight. Mariah lets out an evil laugh. “He put the money to better use. He bought a much bigger house here in LA, a vacation home in the Greek Islands and one in the Caribbean, along with several pricey cars. He also got me a nine-carat diamond ring.” My eyes drop to her hand. Interesting, she isn’t wearing her big rock. “If Chance had forked out the money he had promised Arianne, I would’ve ended up with a much smaller stone, and that would’ve been a crying shame.” Once again, this is all about her. “A man is only as good as his word, Mariah.” “Please,” she says. “Chance became good at stalling, which is why he never signed any agreements or contracts. He’s
so smart.” You mean, he’s a despicable and dishonest scumbag. “It’s her word against that of a prominent CEO. She’s a peon. Not to mention, it’s not like she can hire lawyers to fight my man.” “I’m still confused as to how all this relates to me?” I move things along because with everything that’s coming out of her degenerate mouth, my rage compounds. I can’t trust myself to ke ep my cool much longer. “You’re dating her, which means she’s hogging all the media attention from my pending wedding.” My jaw drops because who the hell says that kind of shit? “You’re here because you don’t want us to be as public about our relationship?” She shakes her head. “I’m here because I’m fucking tired of seeing Arianne’s stupid, grinning face all over the place. I refuse to be overshadowed by Miss Holy Fucking Chic. I hired one of the top PR companies in New York to document the journey to my big day. This is supposed to be my time to shine. My year. My big moment. My opulent royal wedding.” She slams a closed fist against her chest with each statement. Given the massive size of her breasts, I should say, her shoulder. “All eyes are supposed to be on me, but no. My loser of a cousin had to snag a multi-billionaire CEO who happens to be a former rock star. Chance isn’t r epulsive per se, but let’s face it, he’s a far cry from a super hot and much younger hunk like you.” Talk about stand by your man. “This aggravating media circus needs to stop and you’re going to make it happen.” There’s a truckload of bitterness and dare I say, a scary layer of batshit craziness in that tirade. “I don’t see how I can help,” I say. “I’m going to give you an ultimatum.” My eyebrows pull together. “Are you high?” She lifts her phone at eye level. “Remember, I can destroy Arianne Buchanan in a heartbeat.” I’m this close from leaping across my desk to wrestle that fucking phone out of her goddamn hand. “Imagine the negative implications for your upcoming SCORE Yours and your company at large if I were to leak the sex videos Chance recorded of my dumb cousin.” The bitch is threatening me on top of threatening my girl? Once again, I coax myself to simmer down the volcano raging inside me. “What do you want me to do?” “Now, you’re asking the right question.” Mariah smirks. I expect her to elaborate, but she stands up instead. She drops her phone and handbag on my desk, undoes the sash at her waist, unbuttons her coat and exposes her body clad in a white mini seethrough dress. My head jerks back in surprise. Her gigantic tits with huge areolas are staring at me. Same for her full bush. “These juicy melons are a hell of a lot better than Arianne’s small oranges.” Mariah cups her breasts, squeezing them with a moan. How can she walk without tipping over? “And what about this?” She turns around to expose her ass. When Arianne said her cousin went for the reality TV starlet butt implant, she wasn’t joking. That ass is a monstrosity, and it looks like it’s made of rubber.
“I bet you want to fuck me,” she says, looking over her shoulder. So my dick can fall off from the STDs? Yeah, I’ll pass. I’m so r epulsed, I want to barf. Still, I maintain my composure. “Thanks for the offer, Mariah, however, I’m in a relationship with Arianne. I don’t stray.” Mariah flips around to face me. “Fucking Arianne again.” Her hands fly in the air before landing on her thighs in a loud thump. “Here’s what you don’t understand, I call the shots. You have two choices—you fuck me, or I leak the videos of your so-called girlfriend on the internet.” For the first time in my life, I consider strangling a person. “Mariah—” “Your cock.” She points at me. “My pussy.” She points to her cunt. “What about Chance? I thought you were engaged?” “I’m doing this for Chance. For us.” “He won’t mind?” “He’ll understand and support my decision. His face—and mine— should grace the front covers of magazines and websites. Not yours and not Arianne’s.” Her eyes are demented and it’s like she’s foaming at the mouth. With extreme caution—and without breaking eye contact—I slide my hand under my desk, but this time, I press the first button, which alerts security of a code red situation. They’ll get 911 on the line in a blink of an eye. “After Arianne was out of our lives, I tried to convince Chance to get rid of the videos and images.” She’s not done spewing shit. “He refused, stating they might come in handy someday. We can now put them to good use.” This woman is out of her fucking mind. “Basically, either option would destroy Arianne,” I say. “If I fuck you, you’ll make sure Arianne knows about it and that would be the end of our relationship. On top of that, she’ll be devastated—” “That’s the plan.” What a piece of shit. “You should’ve seen the despair on Arianne’s face when my little ruse worked and she thought Chance had knocked me up. Priceless.” The bitch laughs. “If I don’t fuck you—” “I’d much prefer if you did.” My anger is about to erupt. I bite down against my teeth so hard, I’m surprised they don’t shatter inside my mouth. “If I don’t fuck you,” I say, “Arianne’s image will be destroyed forever because of the sex videos.” “I knew you’d understand.” I nod. “Oh, I understand well.” It’s mind-boggling how Mariah is determined to hurt Arianne for no apparent reason other than jealousy and envy. “Arianne will only be left with her three fancy-schmancy degrees to wipe her ass with. No one will want to touch her. No one will want to hire her. No company in their right mind will want to be associated with her. She’ll have to crawl back to Philadelphia and work at Mommy and Daddy’s tacky and God-awful chicken nugget restaurants.” “Let’s make a deal,” I say. “I don’t want to—” “I’ll buy the sex videos off you and we can call it a day.” “Err...” Mariah is caught off guard. “That’s not an option.” “Why not?” She hesitates again. “Because...” Her words trail. “Because...” I lift the corners of my mouth into a fake smile. “Because... you don’t like money?” “Chance has money.” “That’s his money. Not yours,” I say. “Do you really want to d epend on a man for the rest of your life when you could be financially ind ependent?” She stares at me. I sweeten the pot. “I should be paying off Chance, but he’s not in my office, you are.”
The wheels are churning in her head. “How much would you be willing to pay?” Gotcha. “Life-changing money...” I set the stage. “Two million dollars under your name. I can wire the money anywhere in the world.” “That’s not enough,” she says. Now we’re talking. “Name your price.” Her eyes shift from left to right. She’s thinking. “For ten million dollars, you can have the stupid videos and the photos—” The door busts open, interrupting her mid-sentence. Mariah screams in fright. “LAPD!” A black female officer leading the pack, shouts as she barges in, her gun pointing in front of her. “Hands up!” Police officers pour into my office, followed by my security guards. This nightmare is over. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Mariah says. “That man was trying to force me to have sex with him. You should be arresting him.” She waves an accusatory finger at me. “Look, he ripped my coat off.” I roll my eyes. “Ma’am, don’t make me r epeat myself,” the female officer says.